Achieving Fate
by victoriansass
Summary: Destiny isn't a matter of chance, it's a matter of choice. When Clara makes a rash and momentous decision she finds her back with her Doctor and he's not as pleased to see her as she might have hoped. Differences must be put aside though if they're going to save her from the terrifying fallout of her actions. How far would you go to save the person you loved? (11/Clara)


**PART ONE**

It wasn't every day you got to save the universe. Clara Oswald had only done it once or twice. Rarer still though - and far more precious - were the chances to change your own destiny. Not that Clara particularly believed in the notion of destiny, not in the 'you're a cork bobbing along in the unbreakable current' kind of way. Yes, sometimes you did get swept along by things out of your control, but to Clara destiny was a matter of chance not choice. If you took your chances, if you acted and strove instead of waiting, then destiny could be what you wanted it to be.

She wasn't entirely sure if today's crisis had added to her tally of universe saves or not. It'd certainly sounded serious enough ('_parallel realities bleeding into one another, Clara!_') but it was hard to tell with the Doctor sometimes. He could be serious about the threat posed by a giant cloud of dandelion fluff and flippant about an invading army of Daleks. Nor was his grumpiness any good indicator of severity either because, well, he was nearly always grumpy these days.

This was a particularly grumpy day though - she could tell because he became more Scottish - the Doctor apparently annoyed with the inconvenience of having to put the universe back together (again) due to someone else's stupidity. Clara strongly suspected that he would've felt better had there been an actual foe to defeat rather than his 'enemy' being just a bunch of inept physicists. Well, mostly inept. They had after all managed to prove the level 3 multiverse theory which was no mean feat even in the Doctor's eyes. He might have been impressed had their experiments not also left bloody great big bullet holes (as he termed them) in this universe, allowing parallel ones to bleed across, the damage spreading over the galaxies and threatening chaos.

Not only was that careless science, they hadn't even stuck around long enough to let him show off by closing them. Rude.

"So is that it?" Clara asked as she and the Doctor hurried along through the now abandoned space station, her legs used to following long strides that took no account of her size. "All the holes sealed?"

The new Doctor (even after a year, he was 'new' to her) could be particularly poor at keeping her in the loop, presuming instead that she just knew stuff. She couldn't tell if that was flattery or him just being oblivious. Either way, it was annoying.

"Mostly," he replied, his sharp gaze glued to the data pad in his hand. "It works like a reverse shockwave of sorts; the tears furthest from the source close first, the nearest it last. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes if this reading is correct. Which it is of course, because I took it."

Clara arched an eyebrow.

"Ten minutes?"

Sounded like an awfully long time for an 'emergency' situation.

The Doctor looked affronted, as though she'd genuinely questioned his prowess with that.

"We're talking millions of light years, Clara! Ten minutes is an eye blink in comparison! I'd like to see you do better."

She rolled her eyes. And he accused _her_ of having an ego.

"Yeah, okay, fine" she soothed in a manner that wasn't really soothing at all. "So are we sticking around to check it's okay? Or is this us hurrying back to the TARDIS because being here when the shockwave hits would be a bad idea?"

He shrugged. "A bit of both."

"Comforting."

"Wasn't meant to be." He pressed a second device into her palm. "Now, we need to do some comparative readings to check everything returns to normal. Before and after scans. We don't want to accidentally leave any cracks after all. Cracks are a bad thing, believe me."

He didn't need to tell her that. Trenzalore was over a year ago now and still the wound cut deep.

"Go and check the storage area," he continued to instruct, either not seeing her reaction or ignoring it. "I'll check the lab. All you need to do is press this button for several seconds and remember which colour it displays. Your mobile phone is more complicated than that."

Clara graced him another raised eyebrow for the subtle dig against her intelligence. She'd save the necessary retribution for when weren't dealing with a crisis though. Maybe she'd just get him to take her somewhere nice to make up for it. She always had fancied meeting Jane Austen.

Several times in the last few hours Clara had rounded a corner or entered a room only to be confronted by one of the parallel universes they'd been working to seal off. The first time she'd been so unaware - surprised to see a family on board the science station but not thinking another universe could be so mundane - that she'd almost stepped right into it. The Doctor had yanked her back by a handful of hair at the last moment, something that'd earned him a punch to arm before he'd grumpily pointed out that the consequences of walking through a rift were not good. As in potentially getting stuck in a parallel universe not good. Fair enough then. Clara had been more careful after that; keeping an eye out for anything even mildly unusual, checking each room and corridor for that telltale subtle shimmer at the edge of the tear before she stepped forward. She prided herself on being clever and observant, on being the sort who learned quickly from experience. She wouldn't let one of those things surprise her again.

That'd been her intent anyway. Frankly she could've been forgiven however for being shocked when she entered the second of the equipment storage bays and saw the Doctor there.

Not _the_ Doctor. _Her_ Doctor.

Clara had never believed before that shock could actually stop you in your tracks. The idea was just silly in her opinion. Cartoon like. That particular moment though served to teach her just how wrong she was in that assumption. Faced with the utterly unexpected, with something she'd never been prepared for, _everything_ stopped and her senses concluded that this was too much for even her - Clara Oswald, time traveller - to take in her stride.

It was _him_. All purple coat and daft hair. Her chin boy.

Momentarily oblivious, the Doctor remained with his back to her, continuing to search inside one of the crates. He drew a device out in triumph before carelessly fumbling with it as though his hands had a mind of their own. Only an undignified juggle stopped him from dropping it and he quickly glanced left and right as if ensure that nobody had seen that.

Clara smiled. Yes, that was her Doctor. And oh did it _hurt_.

She'd been holding her breath for a good twenty seconds by then, far too busy being stunned to realise, and only doing something about it when the light headedness started to hit. She hurriedly inhaled, a short, much needed gasp that jolted her into sense. She needed to go.

But he heard.

Whilst Clara didn't believe in fate, sometimes silly twists of coincidence conspired against you. Or for you, it wasn't always easy to tell. Either way he finished his rummaging just as she gasped, the silent pause leaving nothing to cover the sound. He turned in an instant, whirling sharply as though expecting a foe and…

If he was shocked too he didn't show it. Instead the normal, everyday look of the Doctor at work crumbled from his face, as though it were a mask and she'd torn it away. It was replaced by an etched pain that sat heavily on his bones, worn too long and too well. The colour drained from his cheeks and the ache in those big, sad eyes looked echoed the pain of two cracked hearts. A sigh like a plea left his lips.

_Why did this have to happen?_

The agonising scrutiny as he stared at her was unbearable and Clara wanted - no, _needed_ - him to say something because this was _awful_. It ruining the sweetness of her final memory, of that last phone call and their last goodbye. She didn't want this instead. She didn't want _that_ look on his face. But the Doctor was staring at her as though he'd sustained a gaping wound that stopped him finding his voice and her mouth blurted to action first.

"What are you doing here?" God, that'd sounded unkind. "I mean, you're there yes? Another there. Another here. On the space station but there not here and...Oh bloody hell, you know what I mean!"

He wasn't _her_ Doctor, she kept telling herself that. He was another him in a parallel universe. Probably come to check out the source of the rifts which he'd detected there too. It made sense. Far from being unthinkable she was a fool for not bracing herself for the possibility.

That was when anger struck although who it was directed at it was hard to tell. The universe, she thought.

No. No, this wasn't fair she decided in petulant refusal, it just wasn't. Why was _he_ here? They'd said their goodbyes. She'd mourned him. She'd let him go. She didn't need to know that out there, walking alongside her and just out of reach. It was cruel.

She certainly didn't need to know that in a parallel universe other choices had been made and he'd survived. Nor did she need the doubt of second guessing herself and wondering what the mistake had been here. Had it been hers? These universes were created by splits, all of them co-existing just out of sync with each other as every decision carved it's own subtle path. Infinite versions of reality, none of them more real than the next, all of them playing out to various ends. The Doctor had explained it all to her in great detail but Clara had tried not to think too much on the consequences of it, especially what it might mean for her family and those she'd loved and lost. For Clara, who took such a weight of responsibility for others, it was unbearable to contemplate that for every poor decision a right one had been made somewhere. That _she_ could have made a difference.

It was no real comfort to think that somewhere else, she had.

On the other side of the rift, the Doctor swallowed visibly hard, clearly trying to gather himself into a semblance of control. Even so his voice came out thick and barely steady.

"Clara."

Just her name, sounding like dust on his tongue, like a relic pulled from distant times. As though he'd got used to not saying it.

Clara frowned then, emotions in a whiplash as thought replaced shock and curiosity overrode sympathy. _He_ was hurt by this meeting too. Why was he hurt? She was the one who'd lost him and yet…

_Oh..._

"Where am I?" she blurted out in quiet demand even though she had no doubt of the answer. The look on her own face was pained now, aching sorrow clutching her stomach. Why was this so sad? It hadn't been her. Why did it make her feel afraid? "I'm not with you."

The Doctor's expression was startled and too obvious, too carved with regret to hide the truth from her even as he didn't answer her question.

There must be a thousand universes out there where she didn't make it, where she'd crossed the road at the wrong moment or took the wrong street home. Where the Ice Warrior had killed her instead of letting her go or where the Doctor hadn't stopped the Cyber Planner in time. She'd been lucky here, that was all. But to see it in his eyes, to see the pain she'd left behind was a greater shock than she'd imagined it could be. How little she'd truly appreciated the true depth of his care for he and how much it hurt to see the sadness that gripped him now. Her proper Doctor or not, she couldn't bear to see him in pain.

The Doctor didn't answer, mouth opening briefly but the words caught. How long did they have until the rifts closed?

"Doctor, where am I?" she pressed again, greater desperation in her tone this time.

Oh god, she should really stop asking.

"Clara," he stumbled over her name again. "I...I'm sorry I-"

"Clara?"

That was Jenny now, walking into view like she was stepping into a projection, appearing as if from nowhere. Her face was filled with sadness when she saw who the Doctor had been talking to, genuine empathy for her friends. Jenny always cared.

"How is the boy here? He's dead."

Even in a parallel universe, Strax was as charmlessly blunt as ever, glaring at Clara suspiciously.

"Oi!" Jenny whacked him. "Don't say that, it's not nice!"

"It is entirely factual."

"Yes but it's uncouth to point it out." Vastra moved slowly into view last, regarding Clara with both a keen interest and a distinct sadness of her own, though less overt than her wife's. She nodded in greeting, taking all in her stride as always. "As unexpected as this is, it _is_ good to see you again Clara. Good to see you well."

Clara nodded hurriedly in return but her gaze returned to the Doctor. His lips were pursed tight, like he didn't trust himself to say a word. Or to say the right words at least. She wished he'd just say _something_ though. She needed to know that he was all right. He clearly wasn't but couldn't he just lie? One more lie for her sake?

Much to her own surprise, she still wanted the details. How would it even help?

"What-?" she began again, glancing back to Vastra.

"Trenzalore," the Silurian interrupted gently, recognising Clara's desire to know even if she perhaps didn't understand it. "You jumped into the Doctor's timestream. He was unable to retrieve you."

And didn't he look broken by it. Yes, maybe he still wore the same suit and bow tie, maybe his hair was the same floppy mess and he still fumbled about like a newborn deer, but he looked undeniably _tired_ beneath the facade. Bone tired, weary and old and a bit scruffy round the edges. He'd lost his friends before she'd found him in Victorian London, Clara remembered that much. She'd brought him down from his cloud. He'd been sullen and bitter then. What would grief have done to him this time?

It wasn't as though she over estimated her importance in such a long life as his but even a man such as him could only take so much, surely. The straw that broke the camel's back.

"But he came in to get me," she said in a small voice. Of course he did. She trusted him with everything she had. He wouldn't have abandoned her.

"Fractions of a second."

The voice behind her made Clara genuinely jump and she glanced back briefly before her gaze returned to the rift again. She didn't want to risk him just vanishing. Meanwhile the Doctor - her new Doctor who in all honesty was less hers than the old one had been - stepped up to her shoulder.

"A hesitation here or there, it can make all the difference," he reasoned in a steady tone which was entirely at odds with that of his predecessor. "I barely got you out on time as it was."

"Clara, I am so sorry."

Had she been crying before _her_ Doctor had said that? She wasn't sure but there was a wetness on her cheeks now and that bubbling feeling in her chest as he said with despair words he'd apparently longed to be able to.

"Don't be sorry you idiot. I saved you. Saved half the bloody universe I seem to remember. The stars were going out. No point in me staying alive in that, right? It was my choice."

She tried a smile that she didn't quite pull off. He tried the same too. Neither of them could say enough.

"We should go." The new Doctor spoke with a disquiet she'd barely heard from him. This was probably odd for him too; the life that never was. "The shockwave will be here soon and the energy surge could leave the station unstable. We need to get back to the TARDIS."

Clara nodded but her feet stayed rooted to the floor. Turning away - turning her back on him - was never going to be easy.

Her Doctor tried a smile again, a bit more successfully this time even if it was a sad smile that she recognised too well. Maybe it helped him to know she was out there somewhere. That somewhere else he'd saved her. Or maybe it just rubbed salt into the wound and he was putting on a brave face. That'd be just like him.

She looked at the new Doctor.

"Just give me a moment, yeah? I wanna say goodbye."

Uncomfortable still, hands shoved in his coat pockets, the Doctor nodded and stepped back a few paces to give them some privacy. A moment between her and his previous self that he really wouldn't know about this time. Clara liked that more than she cared to admit.

"Just a moment," he echoed with the look of the most stern yet most understanding teacher.

It wouldn't be long enough of course, not after all this time, but Clara wouldn't waste it. She turned back to the old (no, younger) Doctor.

"Can't believe I went grey," he joked softly, attempting to sound more like himself. He was standing closer to the rift now, hands in his pockets in a mirror of his older self. "Sorry about that."

"I never cared what you looked like."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Of course you didn't."

"No, I meant…" Clara hesitated, biting her bottom lip, wondering how much to reveal and how much it might hurt further. In the end she decided she had nothing to lose now and that sometimes knowing you were loved softened a wound.

"I thought you were my boyfriend too," she confessed in a rush. "Sort of. Without the actual boyfriend stuff. But I… I liked it."

The Doctor looked briefly surprised, not understanding how she knew things he'd never shared. Then he seemed to realise, glancing at his other self before looking rather more coy. It was impossible of course, even for an impossible girl. He was what, 1180 odd years older than her? And not human. More than that though Clara had wanted to be greater than just a girlfriend to him and admitting such feelings would jeopardise that. She knew how he felt - anyone could see it - but she'd kept her head because that's what Clara Oswald did. She made the sensible, steady choice for the sake of others. And for herself. Why would she embarrass herself by admitting it and forcing him into the gentle let down?

Now though? Now he deserved to know.

The Doctor's smile was still too old and too pained but it held warmth nonetheless.

"I liked it too. You were just...perfect. Always perfect."

His hand flinched as he reflexively went to touch her cheek before realising that he couldn't.

"Clara..."

The new Doctor's impatient warning tone nearly made her jump again as he moved closer behind her once more and she glared at him through tear filled eyes. Was he really so keen to go because of the shockwave or because this was making him hugely uncomfortable?

Whatever the reason her Doctor nodded in agreement - of course he would if there was any danger - stepping back from the rift threshold.

"Yes, you should go," he insisted with a shaky tone. No goodbye of course. He didn't do goodbyes. "Just...look after each other."

There was nothing more he could ask of her.

But a lot more that Clara was willing to give.

There wasn't time for a proper decision to be made and for someone who thrived on control, rash actions weren't really her thing. It was her heart that decided for her feet in those precious seconds though and a big heart would always lead you to big, bold actions. Even if some would label them as 'very, very stupid'.

The Doctor led her away with a hand to her shoulder and she obeyed the unspoken command numbly as her head tried to come to a rapid conclusion. Was it madness or bravery? Was it right or wrong? Was it what _he_ wanted? Then the Doctor's hand dropped - he really didn't like the touching - and that chance made the decision for her. It was a sign, placing into her hands a fate which was hers to grab.

You'll always regret what you didn't do more than what you did.

She made her move in a heartbeat. Knowing from before - from when she'd so nearly stumbled through a rift - that the Doctor would make a grab for her hair she ducked to one side, out of his reach by a matter of millimeters as she ran. He'd outpace her quickly of course but with only a few feet and the advantage of his shock…

"Clara, no!"

Which one of them had said that? Both, she thought. Well it was tough because Clara Oswald made her own decisions. He'd tricked her into abandoning him once before, it was about time he got a bit of payback, right?

She assumed that she'd feel something as she crossed the threshold between the two universes at a full pelt run - probably something painful - but there was in fact very little sensation. Just a gripping or tugging, as though something was trying to pull her back (not the Doctor, he was still just out of reach) but she tore through it with ease, stumbling, only realising that she'd broken through when Vastra and the Doctor were _next_ to her.

She grinned in triumph, breathless, ignoring their shocked looks because every instinct insisted this was right. Right for her. It was what she wanted.

Then it hit her, a dizzy feeling like the gravity was out of sync and the air wasn't quite right. Clara suddenly stumbled forward, gasping, unable to keep upright as firm hands caught her. They were hands she recognised and had missed, easing her to the ground as everything span more violently. Vaguely she saw the Doctor looking at her in alarm, Vastra turning to Strax and telling him to fetch his medical kit immediately.

Head lolling to one side, vision swimming, Clara saw the Doctor, her other Doctor, looking more shocked and upset than she ever considered possible for such a contained man.

She opened her mouth to tell him how sorry she was but didn't manage it as blackness encroached and all went quiet.


End file.
